I have a number of wonderful Christmas memories but one stands out.
Each year my family traveled north to Nashville, Tennessee, to where my father was from to spend Christmas Eve and morning with my grandmother. A widow from before my father was born, she lived in the family home where she grew up.
The house was an old Victorian, cold in the winter but with massive amounts of charm. As the only granddaughter, I got the bedroom on the second story on the front of the house. The room had three widows side by side that formed a circle of sorts. I slept in an iron bed under a pile of covers. What little heat there was came from a coal fireplace. The house and setting was everything Currier and Ives could imagine for Christmas.
Being from the south, we never had snow on Christmas at our house. Sometimes there might be a few flakes when we were in Nashville, but never the stick-on-the-ground kind of stuff. But… one year I went to sleep, huddled under a number of heavy blankets and woke to discover the bare limbs of the huge oak trees outside my window supporting an inch of snow. Wrapped in a blanket, I went to look out the window. It was a white Christmas!
That was my first and only white Christmas. I have to say it was magical. It was everything the greeting cards describe one to be.
It is a beautiful memory that I will always cherish. A child’s dream come true.
Merry Christmas to you all.
photo courtesy of: http://www.freefoto.com/preview/9905-12-3/December-2005-BLOG-Images